


Remembrance

by wittynametbd



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: IT Chapter Two Spoilers, M/M, This is mostly Bill Hader's fault, i just have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 15:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20566616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittynametbd/pseuds/wittynametbd
Summary: Richie has a new yearly tradition...





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely has lots of spoilers for It Chapter 2, so if you haven't seen it yet, you've been warned!
> 
> If you'd like to come cry with me on Twitter, please find me! @gravity_fail09

Richie visited his grave every year. 

Sometimes he brought flowers. Or letters that held thoughts he always wanted to share. One year, he even brought a souvenir shot glass from somewhere he wished they could’ve gone to together. 

But, every time he visited, he also brought his tears. 

Sometimes, the other Losers would come with him. Bill would lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it to let him know he was still there. Bev would wrap her hand in the crook of his arm, standing solidly as he leaned his head into her shoulder and cried, while Ben would stand behind her, a steadying hand on Richie’s back. And Mike always sat on the ground next to him, trading stories—reminding him of things he’d still forgotten—as Richie’s tears watered the ground. 

This year, however, Richie was alone. 

He supposed it was better like this. The others were off living their lives—and he had a life, too. One that he was proud of. It had taken him years—eight years, in fact—but he’d finally fallen in love. Again. 

He’d found someone. And it wasn’t a betrayal. He knew Eddie would want him to be happy. 

Richie just always hoped they’d be happy together. 

But Eddie was dead, and Richie was still here, and he was determined to find as much joy as he could while he was alive. 

Eddie would’ve wanted that. 

So, Richie visited his grave every year, on the anniversary of his death, to let Eddie know what the rest of the Losers were up to. How Bill’s new book was his biggest success yet (and yes, his endings finally stopped sucking). How Mike was happy, and in Florida of all places, and how he somehow still had no idea what the Florida Man was up to. How Bev and Ben always invited everyone to their place for the holidays and that Richie and his family were there, every year, even though sometimes Mike and Bill were not. How much he missed Stan.

But, most important of all, Richie told him all the things in death that he could never tell him in life. He told him how brave he was, despite his fear. How smart he was, even when he was being an idiot. He fired off a bunch of jokes about Eddie’s mom that he knew would make his blood boil, if he was still here. He had to string a few of those in, of course. 

For old time’s sake. 

And then he’d clear his throat, like he always did when it got to the more serious part of their talk, and he’d tell him how much he loved him. He’d talk about the first time he realized it, and how scared he was once he’d known the truth. He’d tell Eddie about all the times he wanted to tell him—how close he was, when Eddie went on his first date with a girl, or that time they were way too drunk at Prom. How he almost googled Eddie Kaspbrak a million different times, and the one time he actually did, and called Eddie’s office.

How he hung up as soon as he heard Eddie’s voice. Because what was he going to say? 

He forgot his childhood like the rest of them. But he could never forget Eddie. 

And he hoped that Eddie hadn’t forgotten him, either. 

It was a foolish thought. A dream. Some far-off promise of happiness that he didn’t deserve.

But now he knew. 

He knew that, for a long time, Eddie was the only good thing in Richie’s life. And he was the only good thing in Eddie’s. He knew that there was some version of their story where they were ordinary kids in an ordinary town. Childhood friends that turned into something more over time. He knew there were a million different scenarios and a million different endings. 

Some of them were happy. Some were not. 

But, there was one thing that was constant throughout: that even though they’d lose each other, they always found their way back home. 

Richie took his glasses off, wiping them on his shirt before he brushed away at the tears that were, at this point, falling everywhere. He followed one tear as it raced toward the ground, wetting a small patch of dirt next to his feet. 

He smiled, chuckling weakly as he knelt down next to where the tear had fallen. It was as good a sign as any to do what he wanted to do. 

This year, instead of bringing flowers, or a shotglass, or their friends, Richie brought something different. He opened the bag he’d set down next to him, taking a small shovel out. It was plastic, and teal, and was probably covered in a million germs when he bought it. 

He sanitized it, of course. 

It was part of a beach set that kids used to make sandcastles. He promised his daughter he’d return it when he got home. She was five, and still adjusting to her new home, but it helped that she had her older brother with her, too. Richie remembered the first time he met them. 

How she was fierce and unafraid, and how all he wanted to do was keep her safe. Her name was Grace. And her brother's name—well. His name was Eddie, too. 

Richie and his partner would give them a good life. One where they could be who they wanted to be, without judgement or expectations. 

Richie laid the shovel down, producing a small packet of seeds from the bag. His hands shook as he laid the seeds down next to him, using the small shovel to dig holes that were the recommended width and depth on the packet. He dropped the seeds in, one by one, slid the soil back over them, and watered them for good measure. 

He told Eddie that the seeds he planted would be with him whenever he wasn’t. That he would always come back, year after year, until they were able to meet again. 

He hoped Eddie liked the flowers, once they started to grow and bloom. He searched for a long time to find the perfect ones. Flowers that could convey exactly how he felt. 

Everything that Eddie meant to him. 

Richie laid his hands over the seeds, not really sure what else to say. He wasn’t sure how long he sat like that. But his tears fell into the soil until he didn’t have any left. He stayed like that until his legs had become so numb that it hurt to move. 

He tucked the shovel back into the bag, along with the empty seed packet. The sun was setting, and he knew he should get back to his hotel. He didn’t like to be out in the dark, especially when he was alone. But he was willing to risk it for a few more moments. 

Richie hadn’t been able to tell Eddie how he felt while he was alive. But he hoped that now he knew. Richie had given Eddie his love so many years ago. And he’d given him other things, too: his dreams, his tears, his anger, his forgiveness. 

Now, so many years later, he only had one thing left to give. 

As he left the cemetery, his hand drifted into his bag, and he took the seed packet out. 

_Gladiolus_, it read. 

_Remembrance_, it meant. 

Richie knew that would be enough. 

And Eddie did, too.


End file.
